


For Now

by Hellbroke



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Arkham Asylum, Batman Begins - Freeform, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Gotham, Hurt/Comfort, Jumps between the past and present pretty often, Male-Female Friendship, Past Relationship(s), Physical Abuse, Romantic Fling, Runaway, The Dark Knight - Freeform, Threats, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-04 21:21:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18351950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hellbroke/pseuds/Hellbroke
Summary: There's something maddening about the unexpected, but drastic changes calls for drastic measures.





	1. I'm Gonna Be Strong

**Author's Note:**

> The Joker: Heath Ledger  
> Harley Quinn: Brittany Murphy (or any other blonde-bombshell you want to imagine)

 

I first fell in love with his charming personality back in Arkham when I was Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Then, I fell in love with how handsome he was after the facility forced him to wash his paint off. They way his dirty blonde locks framed his face was, oh, so cute. But, sometimes I wonder if he loves me at all.

" _Of course he loves me._ "

It seems like I have been trying to believe he does these past couple of weeks, but failing to. It just hasn't been the same since I have find out about my condition, and since I realized of my uncertainty of what could happen. He can be a violent man, my puddin'.

" _I wonder if he will love you too,_ " I whisper.

I look down as my hands caress my slightly swollen stomach over my satin robe. My breath hitches as I feel slight movement under one of my palms. I move my hands to follow each tiny kick from the baby.

Sometimes I wonder how our lives would be like if we were not criminals. We'd live in an average suburban house with a white picket fence. In the morning time, I'd kiss my Mistah Jay goodbye as he drives to work; maybe he would be a lawyer, or a doctor. He is smart after all. And, I'd happily stay home and care for our little one. Would it be a boy or a girl? If it's a boy we'd call him Jack, if it's a girl we'd call her... Emily. At night, I'd give our baby a kiss goodnight as we tuck him in and head to sleep in our own clean bedroom, of course in each others' arms. Our small family would be the envy of the neighborhood. In this fantasy, we wouldn't have to worry about puddin not loving us, because he would say those three little words everyday. No more fighting, and no more tears.

Yeah, _right_. I'd be lucky if he didn't kill me if I told him, or even figured it out. Mistah Jay is not as perfect as I try to make him out to be. He usually seems to not care how much I beg him to stop during a fight, or how much I cry. He doesn't always take my opinion into consideration, even when he is wrong.

He is wonderful when he wants to be. Just yesterday, he was holding me after making love, and tickling me, and blowing raspberries all over on my stomach. Oh, he just loves to make me squirm under his touch. Of course I made sure we were in the dark and I refused to be fully in the nude, claiming that it was too cold, to which I received a hard glare. But, after a bit of... persuasion he gave in.

"You've gained some weight, Harls."

I quickly slide my hands to rest on my slim thighs to try to smooth out the sudden shakes as I look towards him from the reflection of my vanity, which he had one of the boys go buy, or steal, for my birthday two years ago. I try to mask the hurt from his comment by picking up my hairbrush and running it through my semi-wet golden locks.

"Oh, pud, you're so mean," I continued to brush my hair while blinking a couple times to soothe the stinging of tears to be. Even if having a baby is going to disrupt my lifestyle, I can never get rid of it... Even if he wants me to.

"Job's not keeping you busy enough?"

Smirking, he continued, "I can't have a whale hogging the bed."

Instinctively, my hand quickly rests on my belly, and I pretend I don't see him see it. Is he testing me? Sometimes, I wonder if he has it figured out. My puddin is an intelligent man after all. I see him lick at his scars, his beautiful scars, impatiently. And, it almost makes me burst out in tears and ask for his forgiveness, but I have to be strong.

He's standing behind me with no makeup; it's a sight that still takes my breath away. He looks human without the disturbing war paint. I'm the only one who knows his scars are ticklish. If society was to see him in this state he would be deemed as beautiful. Yet, even when he does he still says the most cruel things.

I look away from his reflection in the mirror and focus on brushing my hair.. How can I not? I cannot handle staring into those endless pools that can drown you, reach in, and uncover your darkest secrets.

Lately, I feel him not trusting me as much. I have seen him studying me, like he is right now, and it scares me. As I set my brush on the mannequin, I sigh. _Bastard._

"I'm sorry, what was that, _darling_?"

His torso is slightly pushing against my back as he tightens his hold on my slender shoulder, challenging me. A steady shiver crawls up my spine causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise. _Here we go again._

"Nothing," I whispered, too familiar with the situation to move.

His cold eyes ignore my distress. His tongue brushes the inside of his scarred cheeks. I close my eyes in fear of being struck. I feel his hand on my shoulder let go, probably disgusted at my fear.

_And I still have minor bruises from the other day._

He forcefully shoves my head to side as if he is a child, and stalks out of our bedroom. After a good while of being rigid in hopes him not returning, I open my eyes to see that I am alone in our bedroom. He probably went to his studies to fume. I slowly lower the hairbrush that was held up against my chest in fright on to the vanity. Letting out a loud sigh, I silently thanked whoever was listening to me that he wasn't in the mood to deal with my behavior. Staring at my own reflection, I angrily warned myself, "Next time you won't be so lucky, _Harls._ "

I feel my lips quivering as I try to hold back the tears that are threatening to escape from frustration. Frustrated, because of how I dealth with the situation just now, even though I was successful from keeping Mistah Jay from hurting me. Frustrated, because of the situation that I'm in. Frustrated, knowing I can't keep dealing with his questioning eyes. Frustrated, because I cannot keep hiding this from him. Frustrated, because It has come to the point to where I try to avoid contact with him when I have the strength to, especially with my stomach.

No matter how insulting he can be, I'm not stupid. I know time is running out. As much as it hurts me, I must do it for the sake of my growing child. My puddin' is never going to love me again after this.

I wipe the harsh tears away with the sleeves of my satin robe. I stand up and dress into my a ugly, oversized sweatshirt and sweat pants before climbing into the welcoming bed. I have a plan to work on to keep my baby, and possibly myself, alive.

Drastic changes calls for drastic measures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Fanfiction.net on my account h e l l b r o k e (yes, spaced like that).  
> Original publication date: September 23, 2014.  
> Revised publication date: January 6, 2017.


	2. Pale Shelter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Joker: Heath Ledger  
> Harley Quinn: Brittany Murphy (or any other blonde-bombshell you want to imagine)

Harley woke up in the middle of the night with the sheets twisted around her burning legs. Still half-asleep, Harley automatically groaned and got up. Dragging her feet on the carpet to crack open a window. The carpet he had installed, just for her. The carpet that was once so clean, only to be tainted by fits of anger - blood stains.

Realizing that she was awake doing so, she glanced over from her spot to see the bed empty, meaning Mistah Jay never came to bed. A slight sense of worry washed over her. _He won't be able to operate and succeed on his jobs without a good night rest._

She quickly threw the thought away upon remembering her current, stressful predicament. Glancing at the alarm clock on the bedside table, flashing an angry red glow, the only source of light in the room, that read _4:13am_. Harley, then, spotted all the covers pushed onto the floor. _It sure is hot._

Sneaking towards the closed bedroom door, Harley pressed her warm ear against the cool surface listening for any signs of movement. If she remembers correctly, the Joker had told her earlier about a _business_ over at Maroni's. Assuming it was clear on the other side of the door, she began her way to their closet, well, mostly her closet. She covered her mouth quickly as a soft giggle formed due to the memory of when she first moved in resurfacing..

_Almost three years ago..._

It was in the middle of the night when the Joker kicked through the door carrying loads of suitcases, muttering curses as he did so. The Joker had earlier told Harley that it was easier and safer for them to bring her belongings from her apartment in the dark, the only time when the street were rather empty, from the police that is.

 "Jeez, Harls, did ya really need _all_ of this junk?"

Coming in with only a handbag in tow, she inhaled a deep, blissful breath of Mistah Jay's bedroom, well, their bedroom now, ignoring that it was decorated with stale air. Delighted that she could finally be with him, completely.

"Its not junk, puddin, its my clothes and make up. Besides, don't you want me to look good?" Harley asked fishing for a compliment.

With a groan of relief, the Joker dropped all of Harley's stuff on to the floor. In all seriousness, the Joker muttered, "You always look good."

Taking Harley by surprise, she threw herself at him, clinging onto him. "Oh, puddin!"

Yelping, the Joker said, "Hey! Easy there."

Her face pressed against his chest she said, "Sorry, Mistah Jay.. I'm just so happy right now."

Soon enough, he gave up and wrapped his arms around her for a moment, "Let's put this _junk_ away, hmm?"

Still in his arms, she complied, "It's not junk."

He released her and lead her to it. Finally seeing the inside of his closet, Harley gasped, "Mistah Jay! It's practically empty!"

Of course, except for a couple of his suits and pyjamas. She felt sorry for him.

Not liking that look on her face, the Joker wanted to pull her by her hair just for pitying him. Calming down, he replied, "Who needs materialistic things?"

With a giggle she replied, "Your Harley does, besides who doesn't like a couple of nice things here and there?"

Glancing around to emphasize all of Harley's suitcases thrown all over the floor, the Joker was amused, "A couple?"

With faux irritation Harley began setting her many pairs of shoes in the closet, "Oh, hush."

After a moment of Mistah Jay watching her, she teased, "Like what you see, Jay?"

There was a twinkle in his eyes, but his tone of voice meant business. "I'm gonna go have a word with the boys."

She looked back at him in slight dissappointment. "You're not going to help me?"

"Eh, no, but you better hurry because when I return you'll look _really_ good in my bed," with a wink he left.

_Present time..._

The memories kept her there, staring into the closet. The darkness spilling out seemed so uninviting. As if begging her to go back to bed, and try again some other day. Because, the second she heave-hos with a bag filled with minimal necessesities, she was betraying him. Everything that he's done for her will be spat back in his face. And, she still feels the way her heart clenched and stomach hurled after witnessing what he did to one of the goons - he only took a thousand, he swore. Said something about needing help to pay for his grandmother's medical bills. Apparently, his grandmother had been really sick - and Harley felt so bad.

The memory was a mere echo, _'Jay, stop!'_

_A hand to her throat, cutting off her oxygen._

_'Have something **t** o say, sweethear **t**?'_

She hasn't seen that boy ever since - he was barely pushing nineteen. She can still feel her skin crawling from the mere thought of it. His fingers digging into her neck. Bright eyes pleading him to let go. The swirls of bruises the next day bluring her vision. And, the Joker pretended nothing ever happened.

_It's awfully quiet, too quiet.._

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Harley pulled out one of her duffle bags used for weapons from the corner; she made sure she did not grab one of the Joker's out of caution. She couldn't see well due to the pure darkness that engulfed her. Almost tripping over the record collection on the floor on the closet, Harley held out her hands in front of her. She hoped she was grabbing a couple of seperate shirts, sweaters, and bottoms. As her hands kept reaching into the closet, she felt the stretchy material of the spandex. Immediately knowing what it was, her eyes began to sting. Feeling it, she silently said a fairwell to the Harley Quinn persona. The Joker's girlfriend. His lover.

Setting the duffle bag by her shoeless feet, Harley shredded her pyjamas. Instantly feeling relief from the intense heat of the summer night. Feeling for a t-shirt, jeans, a light sweater, she changed as stealthily as she could. Searching for a comfortable pair of sneakers, the heel of her foot bumped against a stack of grooves - the Joker's record collection.

Slipping her shoes on, Harley thought - _I'm gonna miss his music._

Harley brought the duffle bag to the wooden dresser in the other side of the room, and carefully pulled open a drawer containing her lingerie and socks. Pulling out a handfuls and stuffing it into the bag, Harley sighed.

_i'm actually doing this._

After grabbing whatever she could from the bathroom, uncluding toiletries, she peeked out the window. From what she could see, the compound was dark, but empty. The cadillac and the other vans were gone, meaning she had a clear break to walk out without any trouble.

Cautiously, Harley held out her duffle bag in front of her as she walked through the wearhouse, watching out for any signs of one of the goons that could have stayed behind, perhaps, to keep an eye on her. Finding herself to be completely alone, Harley headed towards the front door, and left.

She took a peek of the compound behind her. _Goodbye, Jay._

As she walked on the sidewalk of the empty street, she reached for her cellphone in her back pocket. Once she found Detective Gordon's number that she searched for on the internet a while back, she sent him a message:

_'I need Batman. Tell him to meet me in the alley between 23rd St. and St. Annes's.'_

Harley thought, _He's a cop, he's gotta answer._

She thought correctly. In less than three minutes, she received a text message from the detective himself:

_'Who's this?'_

Harley desperately answered back:

_'Please just tell him.. This isn't a trap.'_

Harley continued to walk to her destination. Far enough from the Joker's hide out, but close enough to be of walking distance. She kept to herself as shady chracters stared after her, hoping they left her alone. She wasn't worried of getting robbed, or mugged, or worse. Harley just didn't want to cause a scene.

Arriving at her destination, she set her duffle bag against the wall, and leaned against it as well.

While waiting impatiently, Harley tapped her fingers against the wall. Soon enough, Batman stepped out of the shadow, confusion in his voice. "Harley?"

Startled, Harley yelled out, "Oh my God!"

Catching her breath, she glared at him. "Can't you wait around like normal people?"

Batman spoke, his deep voice clear, "Gordon told me the message he received seemed suspicious."

Harley took a hold of her bag again, "What, he doesn't received distressed calls or messages? He's a cop for crying out loud."

Batman took notice of her bag, actually surprised. "This isn't a time for games.. Where's the Joker?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. Look, this isn't some joke... I need out."

Clenching his jaw, "And, I'm suppose to believe that?"

Hunching her shoulders in defeat, "Yes."

Realizing her tone of voice wasn't high pitched or, perhaps, degraiding to the ears, Batman stared into her eyes looking for any hidden meanings; he found none. "You're serious.. You want to go to Arkham?"

Harley let out an exasperated sigh. "No, he'll find me there," desperately she added, "And, it's more complicated than that. I just need to run away. I need to dissappear without a trace."

"Why?"

Bluntly, she stated, "I'm pregnant."

The stillness of the night was deafening. For a second, Batman yearned for this to be some sort of trick; knowing it would have been much easier than this. Quickly glancing and noticing the slight bump highlighted by one of the dim street lights, he sighed.

"No cash?"

Harley shook her head, "Jay takes care of that."

"I can pay for a motel for the night-"

"No! He'll find me! Look, I need to leave Gotham as soon as possible.."

Batman took a hold of her duffle bag, feeling the insides of it.

"Hey!"

After inspecting the contents, making sure threats were not present."Any weapons on you?"

Harley pulled a pocket knife from her front pocket. "This was just for self-defense, I swear."

Batman tucked the old pocket knife into one his belt pouches, and paused for a moment. "The phone, throw it out."

Hearing the cellphone _clank_ against the metal of the dumpster was almost satisfying.

He pulled the duffle bag over his shoulder and grabbed a firm hold of Harley's arm, "Can you keep a secret?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Fanfiction.net on my account h e l l b r o k e (yes, spaced like that).  
> Original publication date: January 8, 2017


	3. All of the Law

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Joker: Heath Ledger  
> Harley Quinn: Brittany Murphy (or any other blonde-bombshell you want to imagine)

"He's a playboy billionaire, what's he gonna do?" Harley asked while standing in the pristine foyer, looking at the paintings adjoining the walls. Her eyes trailing through the blending of colors and the faint mark of delicate paint strokes until she came face to face with a mirror the size of her. Focusing on her own reflection in the mirror, suddenly feeling out of place. Her voice echoed through the foyer. "Jeez, Bats, you should of at least let me doll myself up first."

A surge of confidence returned to her as she remembered what the Joker had said to her.

_"You always look good."_

Looking back at Batman, she caught him with his fists and jaw clenched as if struggling for a split second. Just as it was there, it was gone.

Harley, just then, realized the whole situation. Batman asking her to keep a secret, Batman taking her through the back route, and Batman and her being inside Wayne Manor.

Finally making the connection, Harley inquired, "So, you and Bruce Wayne _do_ know eachother?"

Not allowing for Batman to speak, she continued, "I mean, he's wealthy in Gotham.. He must have some sort of protection, right? And, no one knows exactly who you are.. Does Bruce pay you?" _Anyone with money in this city has to keep an eye on their back._

"Not exactly." Batman still had a secret to keep, one he trusted with very few people. He could count the people who knew with one hand. Harley Quinn was dangerous, despite wanting to leave the Joker and her old life behind. She was known to be quite untrustworthy, or deceiving, especially when the situation revolved around the Joker.

His connection with Catwoman gave him some insight of the relationship between the Joker and Harley. He already knew that there was some form of domestic violence occurring between the two, but Selina has often complained about Harley. Talking about how much she disliked Harley; stating how weak Harley was. She's told him of the many times Harley has taken residency at Poison Ivy's, after countless disputes with the Joker. Harley swearing she would never take him back. And, yet, Harley always did.

Batman can clearly recall Selina saying with distaste, _"And, I mean, she looked like shit. Crying her eyes out - a black eye, a busted lip... I would never let anyone treat me like that, and I definitely wouldn't allow them back into my life.. I don't know how Ivy can deal with her, or even be acquainted with her. She's a lost cause."_

But, what stuck to him the most was the honesty of the moment. Selina was venting to him, letting out her frustration. Trying to prove that Harley meant nothing to her, but Batman betted that there was a hint of worry and pity in her words. _"As a villain, Harley is ballsy, but as a woman, she's pathetic."_

Harley motioned towards Batman's suit with her arm bringing him back in the moment, "You think Brucie boy could buy one for puddin-" Harley shut her mouth, silently cursing at herself.

Trying to cover it up, Harley smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, I talk a lot when I'm nervous."

Here she was, trying to move on for the sake of her child's well-being, and yet, still behaving like the Joker's sidekick. _Batman must think her a fool._

Her confidence gone, Harley began fiddling with the ends of her sleeves while biting her lower lip. Harley stared down at her feet, inspecting her worn out, but decent pair of tennis shoes. Dirt creeping over the rubber of them. _I should of brought a different pair._

Batman wasn't sure whether to comfort her or offer her a word of hope, instead he motioned for her to follow him up the staircase.

Harley stopped him, "Wait. I feel like an intruder."

What he could offer Harley, though, was a peace of mind, "It's fine. Wayne knows you're here. We'll discuss the plan tomorrow as soon as you wake up; the Joker won't find you here."

Without a second glance, he continued up the stairs. Hoisting her duffel bag into a comfortable position on her shoulder, Harley let out a sigh of relief before catching up with Batman.

_Next Day..._

Harley layed comfortably on the cozy bed with her head propped up against the wooden headboard, pillows supporting her back. A month old issue of Cosmopolitan in her hands. Harley only paid half-attention to the information about _a better sex life_ in front of her due to already reading the issue before from her collection at the hideout.

Three soft knocks at the door had Harley rise into a sitting position, the magazine left resting on her lap. Calling out thinking it was the kind old man, who strangely reminded her of her own grandfather, that had brought her breakfast half an hour ago. "Come in!"

The door opened, only to reveal the master himself, Bruce Wayne, dressed in a casual suit, and hair combed back in its usual style.

Suddenly becoming nervous due to not being used to being around important figures. Infamous, yes. She was sharing a bed with the most unpredictable and feared out of all the criminals in Gotham for nearly three years.

Combing her blonde hair behind her ears with her slender fingers, "Oh, excuse me. I thought you were the kind old man from earlier.."

Amused, he replied, "Alfred?"

Nodding, she continued, "I haven't even gotten out of bed. What time is it, anyways?"

Taking a seat next to her on the bed, Bruce inspected his golden watch, "Only a quarter past three." Jokingly he added, "I've had these days before. My lifestyle can be quite exhausting."

Harley sighed in agreement while crossing her arms, "Tell me about it."

Chuckling, Bruce threw her his most charming smile, "Anyways, I just wanted to properly introduce myself. I'm Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises."

Lending out his hand, Harley accepted it, "I'm.. Dr. Harleen Quinzel."

Playing the part, Bruce feigned shock, "A doctor?"

Harley smiled, "Well, actually, an ex-psychiatrist. I.. I quit the job a while ago."

"At Arkham? I can certainly say that I have finally met a young 'ex-psychiatrist.'"

Noticing something familiar of his early laugh lines as a smile played at his lips, Harley lost the lackluster of her smile. Holding up the magazine in her hands, Bruce clenched his jaw. Harley pressed the magazine against his face, hiding the upper half. Bruce stilled, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop Harley from figuring it out. It was too late.

Harley studied his jaw line and lips, knowing she's seen that structure before. Her eyes widening, "Oh my God."

Tossing the magazine to the side of her on the bed, Harley questioned, " _Batman?_ "

Losing all of his charm, Bruce sighed.

Running his hands down his face, turning to her, "You can't tell anyone, got it?"

It wasn't so much as a question, but a command. Stunned, she was at a lost of words. A lump developing in her throat. Bruce Wayne's name was plastered all over Gotham, overtaking most of Gotham's headlines, well, when the Joker or other criminals weren't hogging up the starlight. It was almost impossible for an avid reader such as herself, to not read about the mighty Bruce Wayne. Finding the idea almost funny. _Who would of thought Batman to woo many ladies._

Looking him in the eyes, Harley swore that even his eyes were similar to the Batman's. _How have I never noticed before?_

"You've done so much for me already. I mean, you haven't even turned me into Arkham. That alone already means a lot to me. I swear, your secret is safe with me."

Sighing, Bruce stood from the bed and sliding his hands in his pant's pockets. He knew he didn't have to worry about his identity, yet, but it still set him off. A criminal knew, one who was head over heels in love with his arch-nemesis. "Well, I was suppose to come in later, dressed as Batman, to tell you about the plan, but since, well, you know."

In triumph, Harley smirked, "I knew there was a connection between the two of you."

Remembering the words that were practically spewing out of her mouth last night, the corners of his lips upturned, "Yeah, you had an idea alright."

_She must know what some say about her._ She was a new psychiatrist, easily manipulated. If Selina thought that, then others must have similar ideas. Poison Ivy was Harley's best friend, surely a blunt person like her has told Harley. And, to be honest with himself, he generally agreed that Harley was manipulated into this lifestyle. And, it took a heavy wake up call for her try to move along, even if it meant death at the end of the tunnel. If she was willing to fight for her right, then Batman didn't see why she didn't deserve the respect.

"You were a psychiatrist for reason."

Smiling at the hinted compliment, Harley brightened.

Clapping his hands once to change the mood in the room, "Well, I suggest you start getting ready."

He turned to leave, "You're going to be leaving to California soon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Fanfiction.net on my account h e l l b r o k e (yes, spaced like that).  
> Revised publication date: January 10, 2017.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Fanfiction.net on my account h e l l b r o k e (yes, spaced like that).  
> Original publication date: September 23, 2014.  
> Revised publication date: January 6, 2017.


End file.
